Valentine’s: the day of two
* Trigger Warning: mention of suicidal ideation *
It’s that time of year again.
Swathes of red and pink everywhere you look, altars to coupledom and love.
But it’s not all champagne and roses.
Valentines Day 2022 marks 2 years since my husband broke his leg, beginning a very long journey home from the mountains and a prequel to the great Covid Lockdown.
But that’s not why I write.
A few days ago a much greater anniversary dawned on me.
At 2pm, 14th February 2012, my Valentines Day gift was a home visit from Marc; a kind Community Psychiatric Nurse from the Crisis Team. We had a cup of tea, him sat on our sofa while I tried to cocoon myself in my Grandad’s old sixties swivel chair. I can’t recall much else other than him leaving me with his card and a simple feeling of hope.
Hope, that finally after years of asking, various anti-depressants and declaration of suicidal ideation, someone had listened. I would get help.
I was signed off work for two weeks.
Two months later I had a breakdown. Hand poised over the door handle, ready to pitch another weekly creative presentation to the CEO and Directors. I crashed and ran to the nearest toilets. Moments later, after a few deep breaths, I swept away my tears and resumed my position at the table, switched to automatic mode and delivered. The details are fuzzy but I recall being back at my desk and advised by a friend “time to go home”.
I didn’t return for two years and one day.
That’s a lot of two’s.
And now here we are another Valentine’s Day, 2022.
10 years to the day everything changed.
The rose-tinted mask semi-retired.
Self-love? Still a work in progress.
With love,
Emm x
“Your heart knows the way.
Run in that direction”